


Bloated and Swollen, Just like his soul

by Luigi_Luigi



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I ruined david, dadvid, edgy David and pwecious max, kind of, opposite personalities, personality switch, this David is fuckin wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luigi_Luigi/pseuds/Luigi_Luigi
Summary: David isn't a nice person.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Bloated and Swollen, Just like his soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stress write. I am obviously running out of ideas.

David wasn't even meant to be there the full 3 three months. He was supposed to be distant and bad at his job. Minimal effort; enough to get paid, not enough to care. The first week or so goes by quickly enough. He doesn’t bother to remember his co-counsellors name. Few kids approach him and those who must are wary upon doing so. David isn’t a nice person. 

Then yet another one of the pests shows up, hopping off the bus with a skip in his step. He has a grin so wide it might split his face in two and he tells David that his name is Max. David doesn’t care. He walks away without saying a word, letting the kid figure out what to do with himself. He doesn’t know why Max decides to follow him. 

He’s a cheerful sort of child, but for some reason isn’t very popular with the other kids. He doesn’t really make any friends. Not that David cares, he really doesn't care, but it would have served as a distraction. Something for Max to do besides trail behind David wherever he went. It’s annoying, especially when Max starts talking to him. 

It's questions, mostly. A never ending stream of curious prying that makes David feel like his skin’s being stripped away, regardless of the fact that he never answers. Why does he work at the camp? Why does he shove the other kids? Why does he make his co-counselor's job so hard? It all begins to sound like white noise, constantly humming in David’s ear. 

At one point, he picks Max up and deposits him into one of the trash cans near the mess hall. His co-counsellor gently scolds him for it, but Max still isn’t deterred. He’s too bold and optimistic to be put down that easily. He thinks it’s a game. A funny joke. David doesn’t believe he can convince him otherwise and so he doesn’t bother trying. 

Unwilling, he becomes accustomed to this goddamn kid that has essentially latched himself onto David’s leg. He accepts his fate. It’s only for the rest of the summer, he reasons, and then he’ll be gone. He ends up on the rooftops late a night, smoking off his nerves. A habit that Max quickly catches onto and joins him on. Were David a more responsible person, he’d tell the kid to go to bed. Instead, Max asks him why he’s addicted. David tells him it represses the urge to kick him off the roof. The kid still follows him up there every night. 

It’s mid summer when Max gets into a fight. David isn’t the one to break it up. He watches from afar, sees Max get completely pummeled. He’s not good at it, fighting. Neither is David. For a while after, Max is reserved. He doesn’t follow David around. It gets very quiet on the roof. Obviously, David doesn’t care. He’s as mean as he always is. He still can’t quite remember his co-counsellors name and he still shoves small children out of his path. It just so happens that the other kid who started the fight gets in his way a lot more than anyone else. 

Eventually, Max comes around again. He sits beside David one night, when the man is supposed to be doing rounds around the camp and checking up on the kids, but really all he does is smoke. Max asks him why he stays in a place he obviously hates. David could easily lie. Could easily ignore him. Could very easily push him off the roof. For some reason, he tells him the truth. 

David happens to like nature. Granted, he’s got other motives for staying here, but his fondness for the outdoors is what pulled him to this job in particular. He doesn’t like working with children and he’s not good at keeping maintenance, but he likes the lull of the woods late at night. Max tells him that he despises nature and David thinks the opinion sounds strange coming from the kid’s mouth. 

It goes like this for several more weeks. A routine that David doesn’t realise he’s settled into until it’s too late. He wants to think that he doesn’t care, but then he wonders what that actually means in this situation. It’s different from blowing off the disappointed looks people shoot him. Rather he’s accepting something he didn’t know he could have and he doesn’t mind it. But the camp is temporary. He isn’t supposed to even be here this long. He knows that. 

So the kid talks to him and David lets it happen, but he won’t do anything else. He doesn’t know why Max follows him or why he smiles at him when all David has done is avoid him and frown at him. It’s because he’s interesting, Max tells him when the question finally slips out. Apparently, David isn’t so mean as he is mysterious. It makes him want to stick Max back into the trash can, but he doesn’t. 

It reminds him of a duckling, really. A motherless duckling that imprints on the first thing it sees. Regardless of how poor a decision it may end up being. Somewhere along the metaphor David forgets if it’s Max or himself that he’s referring to. He decides he doesn’t really care, doesn’t really want to think about it. Ducklings don’t live that long when they’re stupid. 

It’s not until the first kid gets picked up that David realises the end of the summer. It comes as a surprise and he berates himself for not counting down the days until he could leave. He could leave now. Right now. With a steady decline of children, his co-counsellor didn’t need him to stick around, wouldn’t beg him to stay and help. There were still a couple days till the official end of camp, though. It would be an easy way to squeeze a few more hours onto his paycheck. 

Max is already on the roof that night. David doesn’t sit beside him because he’s busy looking at the bag the kid has strapped to his back. David doubts that he’s going to get picked up in the middle of the night. When Max tells him what he plans to do, David isn’t sure what kind of reaction the kid expected. Perhaps apathy.

David would like to pretend he doesn’t know why he gets angry. He calls the kid small and useless because he’s mean, but he isn’t supposed to care so it contradicts why he said anything at all. Max doesn’t know anything about the woods and he wants to run away and hide in them. It’s reckless and stupid and goddammit David doesn’t want him to end up getting killed because of that. 

He hates the fact that him caring about Max is what makes the kid cry. He doesn’t sob, isn’t loud and blubbering. He just frowns, silent stubborn tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. David wants to leave the roof, smoke somewhere else where he’s not being stared at in such a judgemental fashion. Except the second he leaves, he knows nobody will ever see the kid again. The weight of responsibility is a strange feeling to David. 

They can’t stay on the roof forever. Logically, rationally, David knows he just has to wait until the kid gets picked up. After that he’s someone else’s problem. But only David knows that the minute no one's watching, the kid will slip through the cracks and disappear. So he asks why. He desperately awaits an easy answer, but receives nothing of the sort. He kind of already knew he wouldn’t. 

He sits finally, one hand bringing a cigarette to his mouth and the other wrapping around Max, pulling the kid close until he curls up into his side. David is hardly one to critisise for being bold and stupid and reckless. He tells Max how he drifts from place to place. How he runs constantly and how he hides. David isn’t a bad person, but he’s not a nice one either. 

He insists that Max will be too lonely in the woods. He’ll try to make friends with a bear and get eaten. Max says that he’s already done that and has yet to meet a grisly end. David can’t tell how literal he’s being. He scoffs at the kid’s optimism, knowing it will only last as long as his heart’s too big for his small body. 

He still wants to leave. David realises the decision isn’t some spur of the moment idea, Max had planned this. No matter how much David talks to him or insults him, he’s not going to change his mind and just go home. Max is smart enough to underhand him if he has too. But David will be damned if he lets the kid take on something so stupid and poorly considered all on his own. 

It’s nearly two in the morning when he tucks Max under his arm like a sack of potatoes and climbs down from the roof with him. David hasn’t really told Max what he’s doing, partly because he’s not entirely sure himself. He says they’re going for a drive. Max is tired and doesn’t ask for any further clarification. David tosses him into the backseat of the car and puts the keys into the ignition. Before he starts the engine, he stares blankly at the steering wheel for several moments. 

David isn’t kidnapping him. That’s not what this is. He’ll admit that he doesn’t know a better term to describe his actions, but stealing Max away doesn’t quite describe it. It’s more that he’s trying to keep an eye on him. Considering David’s lifestyle, this is kind of the only way he can do it. The whole concept still makes his nerves flare up, makes his fingers twitch for a cigarette. He starts up the car and pulls out of the clearing. 

When he glances at the backseat, Max is laying down and out of sight from those who might pass by the window. His eyes are open and he’s watching David, blinks at him owlishly. It makes David reconsider. Max is just a kid. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and it’s doubtful he understands what David is dragging him into. Though that implies that David does when really he has no idea what’s happening either. 

He could still drive back. He could tell on Max, get everyone to keep tabs on him. There’s time to turn around. Then David remembers the big fat tears welling up in the kid’s eyes and the hesitation is pushed to the back of his mind. He’s not going to be able to get his last paycheck.

  
  



End file.
